


Lay It On Me

by insipid_rhyme



Series: Rule of Three [3]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, M/M, Multi, One Shot, Riding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-18
Updated: 2018-05-18
Packaged: 2019-05-08 09:25:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14691213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/insipid_rhyme/pseuds/insipid_rhyme
Summary: Mickey stays the night at Ian and Jerome's apartment.





	Lay It On Me

**Author's Note:**

> I finally bought a laptop! (I've been using my mobile to write and post all my fics) so now I'm gonna christen it with this oneshot. this is a continuation of my series, Rule of Three, if you haven't read Double Time and Doube Temptation, please check them out before reading this!  
> I apologise if this feels rushed. I'm still not confident writing smut, so please let me know what you think!

It had been roughly six weeks since Mickey's threesome with Ian and his exact look alike, Jerome. He had never done anything like it before, and he expected to have his world comletely change, just like it had when he first had sex with a guy when he lived in the Southside, hiding who he really was in fear that his sexual orientation would be exploited to the tough streets where he grew up, and even worse- to his father. But alas, he was the same person, leading the same average lifestyle, just with two new people added to it- Ian Gallagher, and Jerome Valeska. He knew next to nothing about these two men, but so far he liked them, and they seemed to like him.  
  
Ian was nice, and funny, and a little bit of a dork, and Mickey liked being around him. He had tried staying away at first, but now he couldn't. Ian kept texting him- not pressuring, but sending him stupid little messages about his morning run or something funny that had happened that day, or facts about shit Mickey couldn't care less about. He had initially texted back with meaningless one word responses, but found himself laughing at Ian's texts, and actually looking forward to them. He eventually gave in and stopped trying to deny himself of it. It made him happier, he noticed. He wasn't used to being around someone like Ian. He was so selfless and kind. And it seemed like Ian was really into him, which never failed to surprise him, becasue he was... _him. _  
  
"Are you serious?" Mickey asked doubtfully, staring at Ian as the redhead finally stopped scrolling through Netflix and decided on a movie.  
  
"Hey, this movie is a classic!" Ian defended, moving to sit beside Mickey as the chosen movie started playing on the TV screen. "Best horror movie ever made."  
  
Mickey made a face. "A Nightmare on Elm Street is hardly the best horror movie ever made," he grumbled, grabbing his beer off the coffee table and taking a generous swig before leaning back into the cushions. Ian threw an arm over the back of the couch and Mickey easily gravitated towards him, sinking into his side. Ian discreetly smiled down at him, trying to hide his giddiness.  
  
"Just watch it, Mickey," Ian said. "You might change your mind."  
  
Mickey snorted. "Doubt it." But he watched it anyway. Admittedly, he was a bit too distracted by the redhead sat beside him then the movie playing. He turned his head to nuzzle into Ian's shoulder, then leaned up and nipped at his neck.  
  
"Oh, Mickey, this is the best part!" Ian exclaimed, leaning forward and pointing at the screen. He rolled his eyes at him, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring at the TV.  
  
"This movie sucks," he sighed, letting his head fall back, staring sullenly at the ceiling. He bit his lip and glanced at Ian, who was sat at the edge of the couch, all his attention on the horror movie. "You know what else sucks?" he purred, leaning forward and grabbing Ian's shoulder, yanking him so he sat back against the couch. "My mouth," he whispered roughly, "On your cock." He slid off the couch and kneeled in front of Ian, running his hands up his thighs and going for his zipper.  
  
"No, Mickey, you gotta watch this bit," Ian said distractedly, grabbing Mickey's wandering hands and holding them in his big ones. "C'mere." He pulled Mickey up and onto his lap, wrapping his arms around his waist and leaning his chin on his shoulder. "Now, watch." Mickey sighed heavily and leaned back into his chest, giving up on trying to get Ian to fuck him. Guess he'd just have to endure it.  
  
"Where's Jerome tonight?" he asked, absent mindedly playing with Ian's fingers. He brought his legs up and curled them towards his torso, then turned slightly so he could burrow into Ian's chest, resting his head just under his prominent jaw. He felt Ian press his lips to the top of his head for a second before he responded, leaning his chin on top of his head.  
  
"I don't know, really. He's been out a lot lately, not telling me where he's going. He'll probably be back soon."  
  
Mickey nodded slowly, his mind wandering to the other red head. Jerome, like Ian, had kept in contact with him since the first night they spent together, via text messages. But, unlike Ian, they weren't kind and funny messages, but more along the lines of sexting.  
  
He would sometimes message Mickey asking him where he was, and if he responded saying he was somewhere public, Jerome would… request things. Like, tell him to go into the bathroom of the cafe he was in and finger himself, and then have him send photos to make sure he was actually doing it.  
  
Mickey shivered. Jerome was so _dominant, _and bossed Mickey around. He'd be lying if he said he didn't love it- but then again, he liked Ian's approach, too. They both turned him on in their own ways, and it drove Mickey contsantly insane. He often tried not to dwell on what that could potentially mean for him, the thug who had never liked anyone for more than a quick fuck, then tossing them away afterwards to never be heard of again.  
  
He could hear keys rattling around, and then the front door to the apartment opened, and Jerome entered. His eyes were downcast as he slammed the door shut, and he dropped a duffle bag onto the floor beside the door then walked into the lounge room where Ian and Mickey were sat, Mickey curled up on Ian's lap with his head resting on his chest. Jerome glared at the display in front of him.  
  
"Awfully cosy there, don't you think," he observed, his green eyes sweeping over them fleetingly. Ian raised an eyebrow at his doppelganger before he responded.  
  
"It's usually what couples do when watching a movie together," he said, voice even. Mickey frowned. at his words. _Couples? _They weren't a couple. None of them had even established any labels... so why was Ian acting like they had?  
  
"S'that so?" Jerome asked, seeming unperturbed. Ian just nodded his head, tightening his arm around Mickey's waist.  
  
"You uh, wanna join us?" Mickey asked awkwardly, glancing between the two redheads. Jerome tilted his head and pretended to think, pursing his lips and tapping his chin.  
  
"Ah, let's see… No," he said, his voice thickening with sarcasm. Mickey rolled his eyes at him, then sighed heavily. "I gotta piss," he grumbled, unwrapping Ian's arms from around him and standing up, exiting through the archway and walking down the hall towards the bathroom. He could hear low muttering coming from the living room before he shut the door behind him. He pissed quickly and washed his hands, switching the light off and opening the door. He gasped as he saw a dark silhouette stood in front of him, scaring the shit out of him. He sighed heavily and regained his breathing.  
  
"Fuck you," he grumbled, shoving past him. His arm was grasped and his back was pushed up against the wall.  
  
"If you insist," a deep, gravelly voice whispered in his ear. Mickey rolled his eyes.  
  
"Fuck off, Jerome," he said, shoving lightly at his chest. "Are you gonna be a fuckin' prick all night or you gonna be easy to get along with?"  
  
"I'm gonna say… the former," he drawled. Mickey could hear the smirk in his voice. "So… how's my little slut doing?"  
  
Mickey scoffed. "Piss off."  
  
"What were you doing in there, huh?" Jerome asked, then lowered his voice to a whisper. " _Playing _with yourself?"  
  
"You know what, I ain't got time for your fuckin' games, a'ight?" Mickey said, shoving past him and walking down the hall. He flipped Jerome off where he stood lurking in the shaows like a creeper, smirking, before re-entering the living room and sitting next to Ian.  
  
"I've got a sudden hankering for television," Jerome said as he walked back into the room, sauntering over to the sofa and sitting on Mickey's left. "What are we watching?" he asked as he made himself comfortable.  
  
"It's almost over," Ian said, slipping his hand down and letting it rest on Mickey's thigh.  
  
"Well, I'll pick the next one," Jerome said, leaning back and stretching his arm over the back of the couch, his hand almost touching Ian's shoulder.  
  
"Unless you want to pick a movie, Mickey?" Ian asked, his hand rubbing over his thigh soothingly.  
  
"I'm good. Jerome can choose," he said quietly, shifting uneasily between the redheads. He couldn't help feeling awkward around them.  
  
"Where were you tonight?" Ian asked Jerome.  
  
"Out," he answered ominously, watching the movie with rapt attention.  
  
"You've been out every night this week," Ian pointed out, kicking his feet up onto the coffee table and turning to look at Jerome. "You seeing someone?"  
  
"Why the sudden interest in my life, Ian?" Jerome asked, turning to face him and raising an eyebrow. Ian shrugged easily.  
  
"Just wondering what's keeping you so busy," he replied. "Did you get a job?" That was something Mickey knew Ian was curious about. Jerome doesn't have a job, but he always had cash to pay his share of the rent. Mickey didn't think much of it. When he was growing up he had questionable methods of getting money- that was just his family. Jerome might be that way, too. Mickey was legit now, he had a job down at the garage- it wasn't _extravagant _or anything, but it paid the bills. Better than anything he thought he could accomplish living in the Southside.  
  
"Do you _want _me to get a job?" Jerome asked curiously, tilting his head and looking earnestly at Ian.  
  
"Not if you don't want one," Ian said slowly. He was obviously expecting a sarcastic or sardonic reply. That was Jerome's usual fashion. Jerome just nodded his head. Mickey was feeling unnecessarily awkward and desperately needed to get out from between these two redheads for a moment.  
  
"Anyone want a beer?" he asked, getting up from the sofa. "Mines empty."  
  
"Sure," Ian said, smiling genuinely up at him, showing off his perfect white teeth.  
  
"Jerome?" Mickey asked when the older man didn't respond. The redhead simply nodded. Mickey scurried off to the kitchen, frowning. When he first met Ian and Jerome at the bar with Mandy some weeks ago, they seemed to get along well and enjoy each others company. For fucks sake, they liked each other enough to embark on a , _threesome _together, even if they never actually touched each other. Now things seemed tense between them, and Mickey didn't know if it was because of him or if something else had happened between them that he didn't know about. _Perhaps he was out staying his welcome, _he thought as he carried the three beers back out to the lounge room.  
  
"Thanks," Jerome said as Mickey handed him his beer. He gingerly sat back down between the two men and Ian leaned in and pecked him on the cheek in a silent thank you, twisting the lid off his beer and taking a generous swig. Mickey almost downed half of his in one go.  
  
"Will you be staying tonight, Mickey?" Jerome asked after a beat of silence. Mickey swallowed his beer and shook his head.  
  
"Why don't you?" Ian asked, sounding hopeful. "You could stay in my room."  
  
"Or the guest room," Jerome said, then smirked, _"Or mine." _  
  
"Nah, I got Mands at home alone, and I didn't bring a change of clothes or anything."  
  
"You can borrow some clothes," Ian said.  
  
"Yeah, they'll be a bit big but they'll work."  
  
Mickey chuckled. "Guys, I can't stay tonight."  
  
"But why?" Ian whined.  
  
"Because Mandy is already suspicious of me," Mickey admitted. "She wants to know who I've been hanging out with and texting all the time."  
  
"Why don't you just tell her?" Ian asked in confusion. Mickey raised his eyebrows at the redhead.  
  
"You mean tell her I had a threesome with the two redheaded brothers we met at the bar that aren't actually brothers, but I _thought _they were when I was being spit roasted by them?" he asked in disbelief. "Yeah, no thanks. I'll never hear the end of it."  
  
"A threesome with two hot brothers is most peoples dream," Jerome mused, then shugged. "Maybe she'll just be jealous of you."  
  
"Or maybe she'll hold it over my head 'til the day I die," Mickey deadpanned.  
  
Ian groaned. "Just tell her you're getting laid or some shit, you don't have to add detail. Just stay tonight, please," he begged, his eyes going round and puppy-ish. Mickey sighed heavily, rubbing at his face.  
  
"One night," he said firmly. "I'll stay for _one night _and I'll be sleeping in the guest bedroom. Okay?"  
  
Ian punched the air and Jerome smirked. "Okay," Ian said, grinning.  
  
"We're not fuckin' braiding our hair or painting each others toenails, alright?" he said, eyebrows raised into his hairline.  
  
"Damn, there goes my night," Jerome said, rolling his eyes. Mickey punched him in the arm.  
  
"Who wants to order some pizza?" Ian asked, already getting the number up.  
  
***  
  
Mickey was _exhausted. _After the food arrived they chose another movie and downed more beers, and now Mickey was floating between buzzed and pissed. He was no lightweight, but he had downed quite a few and he worked a long ass shift down at the garage today, and now he was officially worn the fuck out. His eyes were drooping, he had lost interest in the movie ages ago, and now all he really wanted to do was go to bed. Ian and Jerome were barely affected; they looked in need of _more _fucking alcohol. Mickey yawned and leaned forward, placing his empty beer on the coffee table. "I'm beat," he said, shaking his head. "Bedtime for me."  
  
"Pansy," Jerome teased. He was slumped on the couch with his legs sprawled open, and he looked too tempting for Mickey's drunk state.  
  
"I could drink you under the fuckin' table," Mickey scoffed, voice slightly slurred. "Jus' not t'night."  
  
"Let me show you to the guest room then," Ian offered, grabbing Mickey's wrist and pulling him towards the room. He switched on the light and ushered Mickey inside, revealing a small room with a single bed. It looked fucking comfortable, and Mickey wanted to pass the fuck out like, fucking _yesterday. _  
  
"I'll get you some water," Ian said as Mickey was toeing off his shoes and clumsily yanking his jeans down before crawling into bed, pulling the blankets over himself. He was already half asleep when Ian returned not 30 seconds later.  
  
"You gotta drink some water."  
  
Mickey grumbled as Ian made him sit up and down the whole glass of water under his watchful eye. "Can I go to bed now, mom?" he sassed, burrowing under the covers. Ian chuckled and ran his fingers lightly through his hair before switching the light off and leaving the door slightly ajar. Mickey almost immediately fell asleep.  
  
***  
  
Mickey was woken up a couple hours later by somene slipping into bed behind him. He breathed in deeply and let it out in a tired sigh. "Ian?" he asked groggily, fighting to open his eyes. What fuckin' time was it?  
  
"Yeah," Ian breathed into his neck before kissing it gently. "You awake?"  
  
"I am now," Mickey whined quietly after a moments tired silence. "What ya' want?"  
  
"I can't sleep," he sang, wrapping his arm around Mickey's waist, pulling him back against his chest.  
  
"I can," Mickey mumbled, squirming in his grip. He turned his head to look back at him. "Count fuckin' sheep or some shi-" Ian cut him off with a gentle kiss, and Mickey sighed sleepily into it. He brought his left hand up to pull Ian down more and deepened the kiss, sucking his bottom lip between his teeth then biting down on it. He pulled back and managed a tired smirk. "Is that a flashlight in your pants or are you just happy to see me?"  
  
Ian dipped his head down and started sucking a hickey into his neck as he thrusted his hips forward. "I'm fuckin' happy to see you, shithead," he mumbled around his mouthful of flesh.  
  
"Fuckin' prove it," mumbled mumbled, smirking lazily as Ian pushed him onto his back and settled over him. Mickey frowned as Ian's erection pressed insistently against his own through his boxers. "Are you naked?" he asked.  
  
"Yeah," Ian whispered, pecking his lips before shoving Mickey's shirt up. Mickey lifted his arms obediently and Ian ripped his shirt off, throwing it carelessly aside as he moved on to removing Mickey's tented boxers. "Now so are you."  
  
"Shut the fuck up and fuck me," Mickey breathed as he kicked his boxers down the rest of the way, losing them under the covers. He'd find them later.  
  
"With pleasure," Ian said into his neck, his voice muffled. He lifted his hand to Mickey's plump lips and pushed between them. "Suck," he demanded. Mickey obeyed without hesitation, licking between every digit and making sure they were slick enough, bobbing his head on them obscenely as if he were sucking on Ian's cock. Ian groaned and hastily pulled his fingers from Mickey's tempting mouth and trailed his hand down his body, leaving behind a trail of saliva until he got to his destination; Mickey's furled entrance.  
  
Mickey gasped as Ian breached him with his fingers, the saliva not acting as the best lubricant, but that was just how he liked it. Ian could have easily aquired some lube from around the apartment, but he knew Mickey liked the sweet burn. "Hurry _up," _Mickey almost yelled as Ian took his sweet time stretching him out, rubbing along his inner walls, soft as silk.  
  
"Shh, you'll wake Jerome," Ian hushed him, pulling his hand away and giving his cock a few pumps before he lined himself up with Mickey's stretched entrance and pushed his way inside. "Fuck," Ian hissed, wanting to snap his hips forward before Mickey was even adjusted, but held back. "How are you still so tight?"  
  
Mickey opened his eyes and scowled at Ian. "The fuck you trying to say, I'm a slut?" he spat, rolling his hips roughy, making Ian groan. "I don't just open my legs for anyone."  
  
"Don't you?" he teased. Mickey raised his eyebrows defiantly and clenched as hard as he could around Ian's throbbing member.  
  
_"Jesus, _okay," Ian gasped then placed his hands under Mickey's thighs and pushed his legs up, almost folding him in half, then situated himself properly on the mattress and let go on Mickey's ass, nailing him so hard Mickey's vision momentarily whited out in ecstasy.  
  
"Jesus fu- _fuck!" _Mickey gasped, clenching his eyes shut and throwing his head back. He tried to shift his hips so Ian could hit that sweet spot inside of him, but with his knees practically touching his shoulders, he wasn't able to. "Harder!" he ordered, reaching his hands up and grasping the beds headboard.  
  
"Such a power bottom," Ian said, smirking, but did what was told of him, slamming his hips so hard that he jolted Mickey up the mattress, his head hitting the headboard, the headbaord then slaming loudly against the drywall. _"Shit, _Mick, I'm sorry!" Ian gasped, pulling out and grabbing Mickey's face in his hands, pressing kisses all over his flushed face. Mickey swatted him away irritably, shoving him backwards then flipping him over onto his back, swinging his leg over him and plopping down onto his lap.  
  
"Fucking ass clown," he grumbled, reaching backwards and grabbing the base of Ian's cock and lined himself up, glaring into Ian's lust blown eyes as he sunk down onto him slowly, grunting slightly at the changed angle. He could practically feel Ian throbbing inside of him as his ass met the redhead's trembling thighs, his muscles tensed underneath him. He rolled his hips torturously slow, smirking as Ian groaned and grasped his hips in his giant freckled hands, his pale skin practically already bruising under the brute force.  
  
"Stop teasing," Ian whined, using all his strength to lift Mickey up then slamming him back down onto his hard cock, lifting his hips to meet him halfway. Mickey almost wailed as his prostate was struck, seeing stars floating in his vision, throwing his head back as he lifted himself up by his own will then let himself drop, doing it again and again until he established a good rhythm, bouncing vigorously on Ian's rock hard cock. Ian planted his feet into the mattress and thrusted up as Mickey rocked down, their skin slapping together and their moans over lapping in the otherwise silent room. It was a cold night but Ian and Mickey were dripping with sweat, Mickey's thighs aching with the effort of holding himself up as he bounced up and down, his leaking dick bobbing around with his erratic movements.  
  
"You're so hot, Mickey," Ian said breathily, gazing at Mickey through heavy lids, "Look so perfect riding my cock. You were fuckin' _made _to ride cock... those fuckin' _thighs, _Mick- _fuck, _so hot!" He gushed, Mickey rolling his eyes above him, clenching around his member momentarily before he seated himself fully onto Ian's cock, curling up slightly as he rolled his hips slowly, the tip of Ian's cock grazing the bundle of nerves hidden inside of him repeatedly. Ian couldn't take his eyes off of the magical sight in front of him and he shook his head quickly, the sight too much to fucking witness. "Not gonna fuckin' last, Mick," he gasped, feeling that familiar toe curling sensation in the pit of his stomach bubble up and over, escaping through the tip of his cock, coming deep inside Mickey, splashing his inner walls with his seed. "Shit!" he cursed as he floated through his mind blowing orgasm, riding high as Mickey continued to chase his own orgasm tirelessly.  
  
Mickey managed to smirk down at him cockily. "Did I extinguish the fire in your crotch, firecrotch?" he breathed as he tugged at his own cock while still rolling his hips down onto Ian's softening prick, precome leaking out of the swollen pink head. Ian was looking up at him like he was a fucking angel while at the same time being the devil, and that pushed him over the edge, his already tight balls drawing up as the tip of his cock shot out ropes of come, splashing onto Ian's heaving chest and stomach and his own fist, still moving up and down on his dick so fast it was blurred. For a few prolonged moments he felt like he weighed nothing; that he was hovering above himself and watching as he got high off the endorphins rushing throughout his over heated body, then he came crashing back to reality and managed to clumsily climb off Ian and drop next to and half on top of him on the small single bed, the both of them panting raggedly as they stared up at the ceiling, illuminated by the moons glow shining through the window and the strip of light slithering into the room through the slightly ajar bedroom door. Mickey swatted him on the arm.  
  
"You couldn't even close the goddamn door?" he asked, Ian turning his head and frowning at him, but Mickey could see a smirk playing at the edges of his wide mouth.  
  
"That's what you say to me right after I just gave you the best orgasm of your life?" he said, acting offended. Mickey raised his eyebrows sky-high.  
  
"Best fuckin' orgasm of my life, huh?" he drawled. "You ain't very fuckin' modest, and _fuck you, _I did all the work, I might as well have been riding a 9 inch dildo suction cupped to the floor."  
  
Ian rolled on top of him, smirking down at him predatorily. "Suction cup dildo, huh?" he repeated. "That's hot. You gotta do that in front of me one day."  
  
"You basically just fuckin' saw it, dickbreath, except the dick was _attatched _to you," Mickey sassed back, shoving him off. "I'm leaking your come everywhere, Gallagher. Why do you and Jerome never use condoms?"  
  
Ian's smirk faded away at the mention of his doppleganger, instead replaced by a clenched jaw, his chin jut out defensively. Mickey rolled his eyes as he awkwardly climbed over Ian to get off the bed, bending down to grab Ian's discarded shirt. "So you didn't just waltz in here naked then," he mused as he promply balled up the shirt then used it to wipe his own ass, his skin slick with Ian's jizz. Ian scrunched up his face in disgust then actually fucking _squealed _when Mickey dropped the abused shirt on top of his chest, flinging it off of him so fast Mickey would have missed it if he had blinked.  
  
"Real fuckin' classy," he said, glaring down at the victimized shirt slumped miserably on the floor, covered in his spilled seed. Mickey smirked as he rummaged through the bed clothes, snatching up his discarded boxers and pulling them up his legs.  
  
"A'ight, you got what you came in here for, Gallagher," Mickey said, then had to stifle a yawn against his hand, "I'm going back to bed."  
  
Ian looked up at him from his positon perched on the bed, legs folded and hair sticking up all over the place. He looked wounded. He stood up from the bed and approached Mickey, looking down at him. "I didn't come in here for a quick fuck, Mickey," he said, all playfullness gone from his voice, "I'm not that kinda guy." Mickey rolled his eyes and placed his hand against Ian's chest, pushing him back gently.  
  
"Yeah, I know, Gallagher. I wasn't saying you were-"  
  
"No, seriously," Ian said, cutting him off mid-sentence, "I like you, Mick. Like, _like-like _you." _And I want you to stop seeing Jerome, _he wanted to add, but didn't. He didn't want to suffocate Mickey this early in.  
  
Mickey looked up at him with earnest blue eyes, his tongue pressing at the side of his mouth, an annoying nervous habit that he had. He nodded his head and broke eye contact, focusing his gaze on the carpet underneath his feet. "Yeah I, uh. I like you too, Gallagher," he said hesitantly. The words he spoke were the truth, but that didn't make them any less scary to say. Ian frowned doubtfully, but Mickey could see hope in those puppy dog eyes of his. "C'mon man," Mickey said sleepily, "Let's not talk about this stuff right now, I've barely slept."  
  
Ian nodded with a small smile and stepped closer, reaching his hands up and holding Mickey's face between them gently. "I'll let you sleep then," he said quietly then leaned down and pressed his lips to Mickey's in a chaste, but passionate kiss, smiling when he pulled away. He quickly got dressed and gingerly picked up his sodden shirt between his thumb and forefinger and walked out, leaving behind a tired Mickey, who immediately crawled into bed and yawned, pulling the blankets up over himself and curling up into a ball, falling asleep not two minutes later.  
  
____________________________________________________

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed, please leave a kudos and/or comment! Feel free to drop a prompt :) Constructive criticism is encouraged and appreciated!  
> My tumblr is insipidrhyme17


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